


Like The Grass (i've watched us grow)

by halfsour



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Hiding Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsour/pseuds/halfsour
Summary: Fjord raises a curious eyebrow in question, but Caleb just motions with his hands towards his bed roll, “Well, get down here so I can fix this, Dummkopf.”(Fjord needs the help, even if he thinks otherwise. Caleb provides.)





	Like The Grass (i've watched us grow)

**Author's Note:**

> i was struggling to finish the end of this but last night's episode kicked me in the butt, and here it is!
> 
> content warning: there's some description of open wounds and wound care in this, but it's brief and easily skippable. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> title is from i would die for you by miley cyrus.

Fjord can feel the deep prickly pain in his lower back with every step they take towards their camp grounds for the night. The healing potion he downed an hour before had closed up the majority of his smaller wounds, but the arrow he yanked out of his flesh mid-fight was probably, in hindsight, not the smartest decision. The wound was now only slightly less grotesque than it was to begin with. 

The barest hint of a wince lets itself go across Fjord’s face when his foot catches against a dip in the dirt road.

He didn't want to be a bother towards Jester or Caduceus for something mild that he can just stitch up himself once they set up their sleeping quarters. Making people worry about him unnecessarily is not exactly Fjord's favorite past time, he's been dealt and has dealt with worse hands than this before. 

It takes over an hour for everyone to really settle down, the adrenaline from their ambush and the long trek towards a safe place to set up fort, unsurprisingly leaves a majority of them with some pent-up restless energy.

They’ve had a rough go of it lately, things never seeming to calm down for more than a few days' time, and Fjord has found a deep respect for the strength they’ve all shown in the face of adversity. Caleb especially being a solid wall throughout the worst of it, Fjord is more thankful for his support than anything else. 

Nott and Jester take the first watch, hushed giggles and the splashing swigs from Nott’s flask are the only sounds encompassing the otherwise quiet night around their camp.

It’s then that Fjord, inside his tent, begins to strip of his armor and undershirt. It’s a slow process, with how tender the wound on the left side of his lower back is, pulling taut and painful with every twist and turn. Once it’s finally open to fresh air, Fjord has to strain his neck as far to the back as he can to see the full extent of the damage. 

His dark green skin hides most of the purpling bruise he knows is surrounding his entire left side, it’s visibly risen around the entry wound and fresh blood has started to ooze out with the trauma he caused removing his clothes.  

Fjord sighs, “Well, this is going to be a pain in my ass,” he says to himself, bending down carefully, to search through his pack and find the needle and thread he keeps for use in this exact situation.  

There’s a rustling behind him before he can fully extract it and he whips around, defensive, before he sees Caleb shuffling into the tent, and clearing his throat. 

“Sorry, it’s me.” Caleb starts, his face is pointed down, and he wrings his hands together for a moment before saying, “I think Caduceus and Beau might be the loudest snorers in all of the Empire,” he chuckles lightly, eyes shifting up to Fjord's, “And I just...wanted to see if you had room for one more in here?” 

Almost immediately Fjord finds himself nodding, “Caleb, why of course, there’s plenty of room, here let me just move my bed roll,” he says, and turns around to begin shuffling all of his things to the side, freezing when he hears a gasp and a curse behind him.

Fjord drops his head, only now just remembering the mess on his back, and turns around to face Caleb and his worried wide-eyed stare. 

“I’m fine, it’s nothing Caleb, I'm alright,” Fjord tries to explain, but Caleb is already frowning and looking at Fjord like he kicked his cat into thin air. 

“Is, is that from today?” Caleb asks, confused. 

Fjord rubs a sheepish hand across his neck, “Yeah, got nicked in the fight, pulled it out, figured I could just deal with it tonight when we were in a safer spot.”

Fjord really didn’t want to make it into a whole ordeal, he’s still standing and able to function perfectly fine, wasting a healing spell isn’t going to do anything but take up the little time they have to rest tonight. 

Caleb shakes his head disappointedly and shuffles past Fjord, to what Fjord assumes is to lay down, but he rifles through the pack at Fjord’s feet and readies the needle and thread himself.  

Fjord raises a curious eyebrow in question, but Caleb just motions with his hands towards his bed roll, “Well, get down here so I can fix this,  _Dummkopf._ ” 

“Caleb, it’s all right I can do it, you should rest,” Fjord tries to argue, but Caleb just gives him a fiery look and he decides this is probably for the best, knowing that trying to stitch yourself up as exhausted as he feels right now would not feel or be the greatest situation.

“Thank you, Caleb, I appreciate it,” Fjord says, honestly thankful for the help, the healing potion’s numbing effects are beginning to wean and the painful thump of his wound is biting. 

Caleb doesn’t reply, focused on opening his own pack and grabbing a small flask, he instructs Fjord to take a breath and then splashes the alcohol against his back. 

Fjord exhales sharply, the fierce sting only slightly alleviated by the clean cloth Caleb presses against his open skin. 

“Shh, I’m sorry,” Caleb soothes him, a placating hand against Fjord’s shoulder, squeezing once before letting go to tend to him again. 

Fjord turns his head to the side, peaking at Caleb in the dim light of their tent, his hair is falling down in front of his face, hiding most of him from Fjord’s view, but he can still see the small grimace on Caleb’s face. Fjord knows the hard part hasn’t even begun yet. 

Caleb lights a flame out of his palm, frown deepening in concentration as he runs the needle against it for several moments. He leans farther over to begin stitching the wound close, but then pauses, glancing up at Fjord, “I can put you to sleep for this if you want.” 

Fjord shakes his head, “No, no, I can handle it, I'll be fine.” 

Caleb nods, taking him at his word, and Fjord is relieved he didn’t fight him on it. 

The needle sinking into his skin doesn’t exactly feel amazing, but the pull of the thread makes Fjord grit his teeth together and struggle not to instinctually move away. Caleb’s murmurs soft words in Zemnian that Fjord doesn’t understand under his breath, and Fjord attempts to focus on the steady tone instead of the next loop Caleb makes through his flesh. 

The next five torturous minutes are like one thousand slow paper cuts against Fjord’s tender nerves, and small beads of sweat begin dripping down his forehead, before collecting on his upper lip. Fjord doesn’t take a full breath until Caleb finishes the last loop, pulling the ends together and tying them off, before sitting back on his heels. 

Fjord makes to turn around and inspect Caleb’s work, but Caleb pushes him back down by his shoulder, shaking his head, “Stay still, don’t pull at them,” he chides, but his voice still remains soothing more than anything else. 

There’s a moment of quiet inside their space, until Caleb clears his throat and moves to pack away the supplies. 

It’s not until Caleb comes back and begins to set up his own bed roll, that Fjord speaks up, “Thank you again Caleb, I owe you one."

Caleb lays down next to him, only a foot of space between them in the small shelter, “You’re welcome Fjord, but...please don’t hide things like this again, we’re all here to help each other, it's not a hardship, and if we don’t have that, then nothing else we do matters,” he replies, and Fjord feels a twinge of guilt inside his chest.  

“I promise,” Fjord whispers, watching intently as Caleb blows out the lantern light and begins to ready for sleep himself.  

Fjord thinks he might doze off soon, but there’s still something tugging at his throat, begging to come out, “Caleb?” Fjord asks, breaking the quiet. 

“Hmm?” Comes the sleepy reply. 

“I appreciate _you_ —so much,” Fjord says, reaching a hand out and placing it on Caleb’s chest, right over his heart. 

Caleb turns to look at him, Fjord’s dark vision helping him see the slight stretch of a smile on Caleb’s face, “Same to you,  _Grün,”_ he whispers, lifting his own hand and placing it over Fjord’s on his chest.  

Fjord doesn’t know who falls asleep first, but the steady thump of Caleb’s heart against his hand blanketed by the warmth of Caleb’s own scarred palm, has him racing to unconsciousness quicker than usual, and he doesn’t dream of anything but crystal blue eyes and roaring flames. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all for the love on my last work, it made writing this that much more fulfilling.
> 
> i appreciate any and all feedback <3


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